


Escape With Me

by Dustydexx



Category: Video Blogging RPF, Youtube RPF, jacksepticeye, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Prison, Rating will change, The Escapists - AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-28
Updated: 2015-09-28
Packaged: 2018-04-23 19:31:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4889266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dustydexx/pseuds/Dustydexx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mark Fischbach made a mistake. A mistake that landed him in the most infamous high maximum prison in the state, Irongate. Lucky for him, a handsome Irishman is there to help him through this hell disguised as a prison. And possibly out of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Escape With Me

_Maybe it's just like high school. Maybe you just sit down an introduce yourself and it'll be alright._ The thought was hopeful, naive, and all sorts of wrong. 

"What did you do to get into Irongate?” Inquired the new guy as he sat at the cafeteria table in front of Jack, the only space that was left open. Mark, Jack thought his name was, if he remembered correctly. It wasn’t often they got new people to the prison. Especially not ones that came right before evening meal. Mark's brows were furrowed in nervousness, fingers gripping his tray roughly while he awaited either an angry response or a neutral response. It was a 50/50. The inmate with faded green and mostly shaved hair would either threaten Mark and tell him to fuck off, respond easily, or ignore him all together.

“Escaped my last prison.” Jack murmured in reply through a bite of pudding, prison edition. Which meant the chunks found scattered through the beige substance, were probably not originally meant to be in the pudding. The Irishman man was mildly surprised by Mark's gusto. It wasn't the best idea to just sit down and burst out a question, especially not when you were the freshest meat in the room. Any other man would've growled, given the male a glare that would drop a statue dead, but Jack was a kinder soul than most- a rare occurrence in a maximum security prison like Irongate.

Really? And what did you do to get into that one?” Mark continued not touching the food on his trey. Cardboard slathered in mayo would look more appealing than the mush on the plastic item. The American was naive like most new comers, it was only his first day here, first day in prison ever. He would learn the ropes soon enough.

Two other men jumped up from the table in front of him and Jack and start wailing on each other seemingly put of the blue, causing Mark to gasp, eyes going wide while Jack didn’t even bat an eyelash. Loud thumping footsteps sounded through the air, mixing in with the hoots and hollers of other inmates while three guards jumped the two men, tazing them with absolutely no hesitation as they shouted “Desist!” Mark looked back at Jack, confusion and horror in his face. "Uhh..." The words trailed off, waiting for Jack to explain what the hell just happened.

“I escaped the one I was in before that. And then before that. Annnd the one before that.” The Irishman continued, tone a little proud as he finishes his food and looked at Mark’s trey, as if two men weren't lying unconscious on the hard stone floor. “Not gonna eat the rest?” He asked, raising an eyebrow, Mark shook his head in response. 

"I only liked the chicken.” Jack smiled a little and took the trey, sliding it in front of himself before pulling two pieces of cooked chicken out of his pocket and handing them to Mark.

Mark’s deep brown eyes practically sparkled as he took the pieces from Jack. “Oh, wow, thank you. Where did you get these?” He asked with happiness, quickly eating one of the pieces, stomach rumbling happily. 

“I work in the kitchen and cook the chicken. I always make extra for meself. It's no problem. I know it's hard adjusting to the food here.” He explained, flashing Mark a bright grin, eating the remaining food on Mark’s trey. 

“Seriously, thank you…" Mark trailed off, becoming enraptured by Jack's large gorgeous smile. "Jack? Right?” He quickly snapped out of the trance, his own lips pulling up at the corners. Jack nodded. 

“Yup, Jack. Mark, right?” Mark nodded as well and hummed in agreement as he ate the other piece.

"So what did you do to originally get into prison?” Mark inquired, Jack shrugging in response. 

"Killed someone.”

Mark’s eyes widened and he nearly spit out of his bite of cold chicken. “You killed someone?” He spoke, a little shocked by the simple statement. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it wasn’t that. 

“Yup. It’s not as bad as you might think. It was self defense. But the girl’s friend decided to speak up and said complete bullshit so the jury decided that no, it wasn’t self defense. Even though it fookin’ was. Tha bitch was stalkin’ me! We talked online and all the sudden she said my real name even though I never told her!” Jack exclaimed and rambled on, a fire burning in his bright blue eyes as his accent grew thicker with anger, making Mark tilt his head. 

“Your real name?” His own words cut off Jack's ramble. 

"Oh yeah," Jack paused, anger simmering away as he realized Mark didn't understand. "it’s Sean. But my friends always called me Jack so I just kinda rolled with it. Call me whatever you want though.” The Irishman informed him as he finished off his food. Or, technically, Mark’s food. Before Jack could ask what Mark had done to get put away, the bell had rang, everyone retuning their treys while Mark looked around confused, quickly coming to Jack’s side. 

“Uh, where are we going now?” 

Jack looked over at Mark. “Shower block. Then evening roll call, then lights out.” He answered as he lead Mark to the shower room. 

Mark followed along, stuck to Jack's side like Velcro. The prison was intimating, huge and somehow held the air of hopelessness and dread. It lingered in every nook and cranny, like a proverbial black mist. Mark had only known Jack for maybe 20 minutes now, but he was already a night light for the older man. He had a kind voice, beautiful blue eyes and a smile that made Mark feel like that he wasn't trapped in a stone building with dangerous criminals. Not to mention the thick Irish accent made something flutter inside his stomach. Mark had always been a sucker for accents, his last boyfriend having had a prominent English accent. 

He could see other inmates giving them strange looks, probably due to the fact that Jack was tailing around a newbie who no doubt looked like a lost puppy. Men in prison weren't known to be friendly, they weren't communal. In here, in the cage, you looked out for yourself and yourself alone. And here Jack was, taking a newbie under his wing, an action that was practically unheard of.

Mark blushed a soft pink watching as Jack started to shamelessly strip his orange clothing off in a room that held some cubbies for their clothes. Jack smiled as he caught Mark's gaze, pulling his boxers off. He had long since gotten over any shame or embarrassment in regards to his naked body. That was one of the first skills one acquired in prison, losing your shame. You did everything in prison with other people around, bathroom and bathing alike. Mark gulped and took off his clothing with trembling fingers, setting it by Jack’s as he covered his private parts. 

“You’ll learn to get over it. Don’t worry.” The man chuckled richly before continuing through the room, Mark closely following after the man. He wasn't even watching where he was going, just blindly following along. 

Mark nearly ran into the shorter who had stopped in a small room, definitely too small for 30+ naked showering men. He cleared his throat and backed up to give the man room, only to bump into a larger guy with tattoos covering his arms and hands, ink swirling to the top of his shoulders. A black bushy mustache framed a thin line in his lips. a stern expression decorating his face. "Sorry, sorry." He apologized quickly, gulping. 

"Don't worry about it." The man said simply, voice gruff as he turned away to the shower head, pushing an inked hand through his black hair. 

Mark turned back to Jack, taking his glasses off and setting them on one the little ledges meant to hold your soap. The soap that Mark didn't have. Upon arriving to the prison he'd been given nothing but new uniform, shoes, and an ID along with a jacket and a pillow for his cot. Nimble fingers turned the rust bitten metal handle to the right, cold water instantly spraying out and making Mark gasp and shudder. Steam was coming off from other shower heads so the water must just take a bit to turn on. He huddled under the shower head and slowly warming water, bumping shoulders with Jack as he washed his body, Mark unable to keep his eyes off of the handsome Irishman. Though he wasn’t bad in the body department either, having nice defined muscles and smooth skin. 

"Uh...could I borrow your soap when you're done? Sorry, the guards didn't give me any." Mark asked Jack nervously. 

Jack nodded. "Yeah, they don't give you any. I've got some spare in my cell. Along with shampoo, a toothbrush and toothpaste. I'll give you some tomorrow." Jack smiled, handing Mark the soap. 

"Thanks." He nodded, spreading the soap over his slightly tanned skin. And Jack would be lying if he wasn’t enjoying the view of Mark’s naked body. Bright blue eyes watched as water droplets cascaded down Mark’s smooth toned skin, muscles deliciously defined, much more so than Jack's. His eyes followed and followed and followed until he realized the wet black hair he was staring at, wasn’t the one on Mark’s head. 

He quickly diverted his gaze and continued cleaning off his body, hiding his blush with the steam that remained heavy and thick in the small room. The bell rang after a while and Jack took one of the scratchy towels off the wall, wiping his chest off before pausing when he heard, “Uhh…” Jack looked over Mark, seeing him frown at the empty towel racks, still trying to retain his modesty by covering his private parts with his hands. Jack chuckled softly and handed Mark his towel. 

“Here." 

"Are you sure?” Mark asked, taking the towel, their fingers gently brushing. 

The assurance of, "Yeah, it’s fine.” Jack shaking his limbs to try and dry them off as Mark used his towel.

All the inmates got dressed and headed towards the regular meeting place for the evening roll call. Once that was over, they spilt and made their way to their cells. 

“Fischbach, your cell is here, next to Mcloughlin’s!” A guard informed Mark with a stern face and point towards the barred room. 

“Well, looks like I’ll be seeing you more often, Mark. It was a pleasure ta meet ya.” Jack smiled with a wave before leaving to his cell. Mark nodded and waved back.

The cell was small and dark, a camera set up in the corner of the ceiling. His old stained pillow had already been set on the cat, jacket stuffed under the item for a little more leverage. Mark sighed and ran a hand through his blue hair, hair style nearly exact to Jack's. (what a coincidence, huh?) He sat down on the cot that felt more like a stale sponge than a bed, quickly kicking off shoes and pulling off his socks. After his glasses were set safely on the ground Mark laid down with a soft smile on his face. The day had gone much better than he'd originally planned. He'd even made a friend. 

Mark counted himself lucky and mentally marked the day down as a success. No one had beat him up or tried to make him their prison bitch. Yet, at least. The thought gave him a soft semblance of comfort while the pulled the rough blanket over his body and curled on his side, the exhaustion of today pulling him down into sleep.


End file.
